Dear Future Gonzales Child,
I was thinking about you today. Not wondering, or worrying, but just thinking. I don't know anything about you yet -- we haven't met. You may be a boy or a girl, brown-eyed or blue-eyed, blonde or brunette. You could have already had a birthday or two, or you could still be growing inside someone else's belly. Your skin might be the color of chocolate, or milk, or mocha ice cream. I think about you often, even though we don't know each other yet. And even though I don't know who you are, or what you are, or where you are -- I know that I already love you.
The words I have for you are someone else's, but they say what I am thinking better than anything I could come up with own my own, so ... I just wanted you to know that:
Somewhere out there, beneath the pale moonlight
Someone's thinking of you, and loving you tonight
Somewhere out there, someone's saying a prayer
That we'll find one another in that big somewhere out there
And even though I know how very far apart we are
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star
And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky
When you're ready to find us, we're waiting for you. Our door and our home and our hearts are always open. We'll leave the light on for you.
Hope to see you soon,
Mom.
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